Either write something worth reading or do something worth writing. ~Ben Franklin. I hope my blog and the writing I post about can be something worth reading.

Wednesday, 9 October 2013

Snippets for September.

Okay,September Snippet time! Mostly in September I wrote the September Story (WHICH REALLY, REALLY NEEDS A NEW NAME!!!!)

Anyway....... oh right. Snippets. Here we go. I may be using some snippets from other months, just so ya'll know. :)

Jacob had found her that hollow. He had been out exploring, back when he was seventeen and she was eight, and had run to get her and show her. “Here’s a place where you can build a hideout, Annieo,” he had said, squatting down and peering into the hole.

“Are there any snakes in it?” she had asked, sticking her head in.

“If there were, they would have bitten your nose by now,” he had teased, pulling at it gently. “But no, there aren’t, I checked.”

They had furnished it together, and he had helped her clear away the brush around it a little, making it easier to get to.

But now he was going away. But of course that did not matter, he was away most of the time anyway, at college. Annie hardened her heart, trying to not let her eyes fill. Her tears were gone, and instead there was just a dull, harsh ache that clung to her lungs, and was slowly but surely creeping its way over her whole chest up up her throat. But she could not let herself cry. For then that would mean she loved him, and she didn’t want to. Not anymore. ~ Pearl Harbor Story.

This is Jacob, by the way.

And this is Annie.

They were both standing now, struggling against one another. Then he slapped her hard across the face, and kicked her away from him.

She reeled, and then fell to the ground, not daring to move or even speak, one hand one her bleeding lip.

Pa was breathing heavily, his hands clenched into fists. But suddenly, for a split second, Miranda thought she saw something hidden behind the storm clouds, buried deep behind years of hardened bitterness. It was pain.

Pain for her. For that split second, Miranda thought she saw a glimmer in pa’s eyes that said that he loved her. But then it was gone.

“I--I need to get to work,” pa said gruffly, “come on, grab your things, I’ll drop you off at the place where you’re supposed to be.”

“But pa, please reconsider--”

“I already considered!” he shouted. He flung a hand into the air, and she shrank back. “I can’t keep and raise you here no more! I can’t afford you! You’re not worth keeping, anyway, for it’s all your fault that--” he cut himself off and wrenched the door open. “Get your things,” he muttered.

Miranda scuttled to grab her blanket, and wrap the meager possessions she had in it. Her eyes were wide; this was the closest he had ever come to blaming her out loud for her mother’s death. Oh, she had seen it in his eyes, and in his manner, but he had never spoken of it before.

~ West By Train.

Her heart was hammering in her chest like a drum. She knew she had only one shot. If she missed, there would be embarrassing questions, and her whole plan was off. But if she succeeded..... well, an adventure through Paris lay before her. She had decided to sneak out of the hotel, pretend to be poor, and go off an adventure of her own without anyone restraining her. Her whole vacation depended on her aim with this marble.

She gripped it tightly, and her sweaty fingers lost hold of the pebbles for a second. It clinked softly against the wooden floor and she froze. But the sound was too small to reach the ears of the hotel clerk. Then she had it in her grasp, and, taking careful aim, she threw the pebble. ~ S.S

He followed her, stumbling over hidden holes and mounds of dirt that she herself flitted over light as a bird.

She admitted to herself that she didn’t know exactly why she was trusting him. She hardly knew him, he was a white man, and he was bigger than she, and therefore more than capable of hurting her. Still, for some unknown reason, she felt she could trust him. For now, at least. Until she knew a reason not to. ~ Friend or Foe?

He reached blindly for a weapon, and found only a hammer. Picking it up, he swung it threateningly at the soldier, who saw it coming and ducked. “Give me back those things!” Edward cried. “You’re acting like a common thief!” He suddenly stopped swinging, the man’s face looked very familiar.

The man looked up angrily. “Let go of me, boy, or--” he stopped as well, and Edward recognized his married brother’s friend, James Hall.

“James!” he cried out, dropping the hammer.

“Edward!”

They stood frozen for a few seconds, then James shook himself. “Edward, get into the house. There’s going to be a battle here, and it won’t be a pretty sight.” He gave Edward a shove in the house’s direction.

Edward pulled away. “James, how could you? How could you sign into the King’s army, and then steal? From us, no less?”

James cut him off impatiently. “You know I don't read the Bible, and now is not the time to preach! Now get into the house!” He shook Edward by the shoulders.

“But how could you join the King’s army?”

“It is where my loyalty lies,” James said, setting down the pots. His manner darkened as he looked byong Edward and saw the minutemen lined up, and approaching them. “I must go. Sometime, Edward, in a better world, we may see each other again. Now go!” All boyishness was gone from his face, at nineteen James looked already like a man. He gave Edward one last shove and returned to ranks. ~ A Test of Loyalty.

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About Me

Hello! My name is Molly. It is not my real name; I go by a pseudonym.
I am a sinner, saved by Christ's blood, and enjoy a variety of pastimes.
Some of the things I like to do best are reading, writing, singing, acting, riding, skating, running, sewing, talking about "The Scarlet Pimpernel" and quoting movies, as well as many other things! :) Please enjoy this corner of the blogging world where I can blog about the things I love.